The Great Bella Body Switch
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: Our favourite Bella and our least favourite Bella get some quality time in each others' lives. I have to reread Twilight to do this, so please review out of pity if nothing else. Don't take too seriously.
1. Back Cover

About three things I was absolutely positive.

First, I was in someone else's body.

Second, that someone else – and I didn't know how this could possibly have happened – was Bella Swan

And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably screwed.


	2. Preface

Bellatrix Lestrange had given a great deal of thought to how she would die. But out of the dozens of scenarios she had thought up, this one didn't even come close to being on the list.

She stared, completely helpless, into the – admittedly quite attractive – eyes of the sparkly wood nymph that called itself a vampire, and it stared back at her.

This was not a good way to die. Sacrificing herself for the Dark Lord would have been a good way to die. Even being killed off by an insignificant housewife would have been preferable.

_I WANT MY BLOODY WAND!_

Bellatrix knew that if she hadn't been forced into this terrible series of events, she would not be facing death now (or at least, not this particular death). But, terrified as she was, she couldn't quite figure out how to explain to the sparkly wood nymph that this wasn't her fault at all.

The wood nymph smiled in a friendly way as it sauntered forward to kill her.

Oh, bloody Hell.


	3. First Sight, Part One

Author's Notes: Okay, I know it's been a long time, and also this isn't very good. I'm sorry. Reading Twilight again is making my brain turn to mush. I'm hoping this will get easier when there are more characters for Bellatrix to interact with.

)O(

One second, Bellatrix Lestrange was happily torturing a muggle, not a care in the world, and the next second she was strapped into a seat, being driven through an unfamiliar city.

Furthermore, she was wearing a white lace shirt, and had the vague idea that she was supposed to like it, which was just frightening.

The shock was so great that Bellatrix just sat still for a few minutes. Her mouth sagged open, and she noted that she seemed to have developed an eyebrow twitch. Her eyebrows jumped up and down spastically, and she raised a hand to them. Not only were her hands soft, smooth, clean, and several shades more tanned than Bellatrix had ever been, her nails were also perfectly manicured, although they had rather half-hearted bite marks on the cuticles. She stared at the hand, perplexed and momentarily distracted from her eyebrow spasms. That hand couldn't possibly be hers…

"Bella," said the woman sitting in front of her in a grating American accent. "You don't have to do this."

Bellatrix snapped her mouth shut and wiped away the drool that had pooled on her lip. Then she reached for her wand. People who called Bellatrix "Bella" without her permission got the Cruciatus curse.

It was then that Bellatrix experienced the feeling that muggles generally get when they lose their wallet.

"Tell Charlie I said hi," the woman said.

_Where's my wand? Where is it?_

Bellatrix frantically searched the seat, trying to hold her straight brown hair out of her face.

_Straight brown hair… oh, who cares, where's my wand?_

"I'll see you soon. You can come back home whenever you want. I'll come right back as soon as you need me."

"What the Hell are you on about?" Bellatrix snapped, even more angry that her wand was missing because she really, really wanted to curse this woman.

"Right," the woman laughed. "I keep forgetting. Independence. You don't need your old mom hovering over you all the time, right."

"_What_ the–"

It was right then that Bellatrix realized exactly what had happened. It was obvious. That drink she'd had before going out to torture muggles must have had something in it (besides copious amounts of alcohol, that is). Severus probably thought it would be funny to put some potion to make her hallucinate. He could do it, too. Even muggles had potions to make you see things that weren't there (LSD, wasn't that what muggles called it?).

She'd get him for this.

But she couldn't do anything until it cleared up.

"Right." Bellatrix folded her non-her hands in her lap. _Just wait until the potion wears off. It's all fine. None of this is real. You're hallucinating._

Miraculously, Bellatrix disappeared from the car and reappeared at a gate, with the muggle American that seemed to think she was Bellatrix's mother standing next to her.

The muggle American that seemed to think she was Bellatrix's mother hugged Bellatrix.

Bellatrix punched her in the stomach.

Well, she tried to. But her arm was limp, as though all the muscles had atrophied, and she only managed a light hit.

"Have fun," said the muggle American that seemed to think she was Bellatrix's mother, and she left Bellatrix standing, confused, in the building

"Are you getting on this airplane?" asked a muggle in an odd uniform.

Bellatrix yelped. "Airplane? What is an airplane?" This hallucination was starting to get scary.

The muggle laughed. "You've got your ticket there, I see. Right this way."

Bellatrix tried to struggle, but she had the physical strength of an earthworm.

_Severus is going to pay for this one_.

Realizing that without her wand or any physical strength, she would stand no chance against all these people, Bellatrix let herself be dragged towards a door by the uniformed muggle. She let them put her onto the aluminum tube that she was told was supposed to fly. After all, it was all a hallucination.

It was only after the aluminum tube (the so-called "airplane") had lifted off the ground, Bellatrix had suffered a panic attack, and gone to the tiny bathroom to try to kill herself in peace, that she saw herself in a mirror.

She screamed.


	4. First Sight, Part Two

"Miss… Swan, is it?" asked the flight attendant, tapping on the bathroom door. "Are you all right?"

Bellatrix stared incredulously into the mirror. Gone were her thick black curls, mark of her status as a Black, replaced with straight, falsely smooth brown hair. Her dark eyes were dull and empty of her usual emotion, and her mouth – which was altogether too wide for her face – sagged slightly open even when she tried to close it.

"Bloody Hell," Bellatrix whispered, putting her fingers to the several-shades-too-dark-despite-the-fact-that-it-was-supposed-to-be-pale skin. "Snape, what did you _do_?"

"Miss Swan?"

_Miss Swan_?

"Miss Swan, are you all right?" Someone was tapping at the door now, and Bellatrix jumped.

_Wand… wand… I need my wand… I need… Bloody Hell, I need to get out of here!_

"Miss Swan! Can you hear me?"

_Who the Hell is Miss Swan? Wait, she's tapping on the door to the bathroom, and I'm the only one in her… Miss Swan must be… me… what?_

"I'm fine!" Bellatrix called shrilly through the door. "I'm… fine!"

"Okay," said the person at the door. "I heard you screaming, though…"

_I need to kill someone._

Bellatrix searched the tiny bathroom, tearing it apart looking for something that she could use as a weapon.

_Stupid muggles! Where are the sharp things?_

"So if you need any help, just let me know," the person at the door finished.

Bellatrix punched the mirror, trying to break it. It didn't break.

)O(

By the time the plane landed, and the flight attendants pried Bella Swan out of the airplane bathroom where she had been hiding for the entire flight, and they had paged Charlie Swan because someone recognized Bella, and he had brought her out to another muggle car, Bellatrix had suffered a complete nervous breakdown.

"Is this your daughter, sir?" asked a muggle, holding Bellatrix's wrists behind her back. Bellatrix tried to kick him.

"Yes, yes," said a man in a muggle, American police uniform, frowning a little at Bellatrix.

"You aren't my father! My father is Cygnus Black!" screamed Bellatrix. Or, at least, she tried to scream, but it came out as sort of a shrill, slightly raised, but still fairly expressionless voice. Well, if this was a hallucination, no reason to be subtle.

The policeman took Bellatrix firmly by her shoulder and pulled her away from the other muggles.

"She has claustrophobia," said the policeman with an embarrassed smile. "We better go. Bye."

"Bye, Charlie," said the muggle who had been holding Bellatrix's wrists.

The muggle – Charlie – dragged Bellatrix out of the "airport" and forced her into the seat of an automobile. He got into the other seat, and turned it on. Bellatrix shrieked. The automobile was _damn_ loud!

"So, you forgot your pills, huh, Bella?"

"_Pills_?"

"Yes. Those pills you take to control your manic depression and schizophrenic tendencies."

"I don't need pills! I need to get the bloody Hell out of here!" Bellatrix smashed her head against the window.

"Homesick, huh, Bella?"

Bellatrix burst into hysterical tears.

Can you blame her?


	5. First Sight, Part Three

Author's Notes: I'm sorry that each chapter is taking so much time. Writing this is actually physically painful. Please review – your comments are much more enjoyable to read than Twilight.

)O(

"I found a good car for you, really cheap," said Charlie, who was resolutely ignoring the fact that the person he presumed to be his daughter was in tears and trying to fracture her skull on his car window.

Bellatrix turned to him and tried to force her face to take on something resembling an expression of fury. There were streaks on her face where her tears had washed away the heavy makeup caked inexpertly onto her skin, and her forehead was red where she had been banging it against the window.

"What… do you _mean_… you found a car for me?" she managed to choke out through sobs.

"You know… a car." Charlie lifted his hands off the steering wheel to indicate the automobile they were in.

Bellatrix yelped. "Keep your eyes on the road!" She did not want to be killed in an automobile accident.

"Sorry." Charlie turned back forward, and Bellatrix whimpered with relief. Then she realized what he had said.

"Wait," she said slowly, sitting up straight. The strap that held her tightly against the seat pressed into her windpipe, and she pried at it so she could breathe. "You found one of these… _cars_… for _me?_"

"Well, yes." Charlie glanced at her, and then looked back at the road. "Is that a problem?"

"Good God!" Bellatrix threw her arms into the air. "Don't you people have laws governing who can be given a piece of deadly machinery?"

"What do you mean? You have a license, Bella."

"And that's another thing!" Bellatrix yanked at the strap holding her into the seat, trying to keep it off her throat. "Stop calling me Bella! No one calls me Bella without my permission!"

"Do you go by Isabella now?" Charlie asked.

"Do I go by_ what? Isa-bloody-bella_! No, of course I don't!"

"Isa?"

Bellatrix let the strap snap back onto her neck. She leaned her head back, and hoped she would be choked to death with the strap.

"I got it from Billy Black," Charlie continued. Bellatrix had to think back for a few moments before she figured out what he was talking about. But then,

"_Black_?" Bellatrix sat up straight, suddenly hopeful. "Did you say Billy _Black_?"

"Yes, that's right," said Charlie. "Billy Black, down at La Push–"

"Well, thank God," Bellatrix sighed. She had been becoming seriously worried that this couldn't be a hallucination, because there was nothing familiar-yet-twisted in it, and she had been told that that was what hallucinations involved. But if there was a Black, that must be a sign that this was all the product of her potion-addled mind. Or, if it wasn't… well, at least that meant there was another magical person who she could get help from.

"I just want you to be happy here, Isa," he said, and Bellatrix's relief was replaced once again by annoyance.

"It's not Isa," she said.

Charlie sighed. "What would you like me to call you, then?"

"It's _Bellatrix_."

He looked at her, confused.

"Eyes on the road!"

"Bellatrix?" Charlie rolled the name around his mouth. "That sounds familiar… she was a character in a movie, wasn't she?"

"_WHAT?_"

"Yeah, in those movies with the wizards." Charlie nodded, smiling widely now. "I remember. The… Harry Potter movies, right?"

Bellatrix stared. Her first thought was, _what the Hell is he on about?_ Her second thought was _why does Potter get his own movies?_

"She's played by that really hot British actress, right? Helena Bonham Carter." Charlie looked to her for confirmation.

"EYES ON THE ROAD OR I'LL BLOODY HEX YOU!"

He chuckled and turned to the front. "I didn't know you were into Harry Potter. That's pretty clever, going by the name of a character whose name is like yours. When the new movie comes out, maybe we could go together."

"What… the… He–"

"Or you could go with some friends," Charlie amended hurriedly. "Everyone's really nice here, I'm sure you'll make friends in no time."

"Look," Bellatrix said, very slowly and clearly. "I am not 'into' Harry Potter–"

"Despite the content of certain fanfictions I could mention," said a disembodied voice.

Bellatrix jumped. "Who said that?"

"Said what?" asked Charlie.

Bellatrix opened her mouth to explain that a disembodied voice had just made some comment about fanfiction, but then shut it, and went back to hitting her head against the window.


	6. First Sight, Part Four

"Look," said Charlie, "Why don't you go get unpacked, and then I'll call you when it's time for supper."

Bellatrix made a soft whimpering noise. She was unable to fight back as Charlie unstrapped her from the automobile, handed her her bags, and ushered her upstairs, into the most repugnant bedroom Bellatrix had ever seen.

It was small, powder pink room, with every quality that Bellatrix disliked. There were white lace curtains at the window, a pale blue cover on the bed, and – _ugh_ – baby pictures in frames on one shelf. She dropped the two suitcases that Charlie had given her, and sank to the ground, unable to stand up.

"Bloody Hell," she said to no one in particular. "Severus Snape, I'm going to kill you."

"Severus Snape didn't do anything," said the same voice that had commented on fanfiction back in the car. Bellatrix snapped her head up and looked wildly around. "Who _said_ that?"

"I did," said the voice. "I've been sent to answer your questions."

"_What_?"

"I don't know how to answer that," the voice told Bellatrix. "You'll have to ask specific questions if you want answers."

Bellatrix stood up, grabbed one of the framed baby pictures, and hurled it against the wall. "_What is going on_?"

"Well, you just threw a-"

"Stop!"

Bellatrix stood very still, taking deep breaths, trying to gather her thoughts.

"All right," she said at last, when she finally thought she would be able to form a coherent sentence. "Where am I?"

"Forks, Washington," said the voice. "In the United States of America."

"Why?"

"Erm…" the voice sounded uncomfortable. "Could we come back to that question later?"

"All right." Bellatrix threw her hands up in exasperation. "Well then, _who_ am I?"

"Ooh, I was hoping you'd ask that!" It sounded quite enthused now. "Well, you see, you're Isabella "Bella" Swan, daughter of Charlie and Renee Swan – divorced – and that's really all you need to know. You have no other personality qualities, you're weak and clumsy, and-"

"Could we go back to _why_, please?"

"Oh dear," said the voice. "Well… would you like the official answer or the real answer?"

"I'll start with official." Bellatrix clenched her hands into fists, driving her perfectly manicured nails into her palms.

"Oh. Well, officially it's a sort of purgatory. You're being punished for your sins. Because, after all, we are in Mormotopia, and sinful people are punished here. You've quite the list of transgressions, you know. I mean, if this record is to be believed, you've done very little with the last thirty or so years of your life than kill, torture and fornicate. The first two we might be able to excuse, but the third…"

"I see." Bellatrix ground her teeth together. "And what's the real reason?"

"The real reason is that I thought it would make a good story," said the voice.

"What?"

"I thought we already addressed that I don't know how to answer the question 'what'…"

"Well, then," said Bellatrix, shutting her eyes and tipping back her head, "what did you mean by 'it would make a good story'."

"_Ooohh…_" said the voice. "Well, you see, I'm an author, and I'm writing all this down as it happens, and I thought that people would enjoy this story, so-"

"_You_ made this happen?"

"Yes, and I think it's time for introductions. I'm Gam-"

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"You can't kill me," said Gam-. "You see, you're a book character, and you can't do anything I don't say you can. "

"Just watch-"

"Me," finished Gam-. "I made you say that."

"You're-"

"Mad, yes, I made you say that too."

Bellatrix clamped her mouth shut.

"I'm making you stay quiet," Gam- said in a sing-song voice. "And if you don't stop complaining and cooperate, I'll make you act like Bella Swan too. For now I'm letting you behave like Bellatrix, but I could very easily force you to act like the insufferable Mormon prig Bella Swan is."

Bellatrix took several deep breaths, then shut her eyes. "Fine," she said. "Fine. I don't suppose there's anything I can do about it. Well, then, how long do I have to be like this?"

"Oh gosh, would you look at the time," Gam- said. "I'd really better be going, I'll show up again if need be. Bye!"

"HOW LONG DO I HAVE TO BE LIKE THIS?" Bellatrix screamed, but there was no reply. She waited, then did what felt natural to Bella Swan's body, threw herself down on the bed, and cried.


	7. Interlude: Azkaban

Across the ocean, the Dark Lord swept into Azkaban prison. The dementors had joined him at last, and now he could free his faithful followers, the ones who had been put in Azkaban, and the three who had been truly faithful and accepted the punishment with pride.

"My Lord!" Rodolphus Lestrange cried, clawing at the bars of his cell. "I knew you would come, I knew-"

"Your wife knew, you knew nothing," the Dark Lord said shortly, flicking his wand at the lock and continuing towards the cell where he knew his Bellatrix was kept. He had waited so long for her.

The cell was at the very end of the corridor. The Dark Lord sprung the lock and let the door swing open, expecting to be greeted by a shriek of pleasure, by his Bellatrix, his most faithful Death Eater and the one living human who he felt anything akin to love for throwing herself at his feet and sobbing that she always knew he would come for her. Then he would take her up and push her against the wall and-

There was no movement. He stepped inside the cell, looked around.

"Bella?"

A woman who had been curled in the far corner of the cell looked up. Her eyes were dull and flat, her jaw slack, but the Dark Lord recognized his Bellatrix. Just barely.

"By God, what have they done to you?"

"Who are you?" she whimpered, pulling closer against the wall. Her eyes and eyebrows twitched spasmodically, and her voice was flat, several notes lower than the Dark Lord had ever heard his Bellatrix speak.

"Bella," he said. "I have come to free you from prison. I will reward you for your faith. You have been loyal, Bella."

She looked nothing but dull and confused.

_Of course, Azkaban won't have been good for her. She'll be better when she gets out, gets home, sleeps for a while_.

He wrapped his hand around her upper arm, and apparated with her back to the Riddle House, where he had made arrangements to keep her, ignoring the niggling sense that something was very, very wrong.


	8. First Sight, Part Five

After many hours of crying, ranting, raving, throwing things, breaking things, and finally just lying limply on the bed, Bellatrix finally started talking. She rather hoped that the voice, this "Gam-" was listening, because Bellatrix had rarely felt quite so stupid as she did then, sitting on her bed and talking to no one. On the other hand, it did feel oddly natural, just as crying had. Perhaps talking to herself was something that "Bella Swan" did a lot.

"Right," Bellatrix said, addressing the empty room. "So, if this is purgatory, like you said, there's something I have to do to get out, isn't there? Some sort of task? That's what makes purgatory different from Hell, isn't that right? So, if there's something I have to do to atone before I can get out of here, I'll do it." She paused, hoping for a response. There was none.

"Whatever it is I have to do, I'm more than willing. Helping, I don't know, homeless puppies… feeding old people… whatever it is, if it'll get me out of here, I'll do it."

"Really?" said Gam-.

Bellatrix heaved a sigh of relief. Yes, Gam- was listening, and surely if she was asking "really", that meant that Bellatrix was right and there was some sort of task. Tasks, Bellatrix could do. She was capable of tasks.

"Yes," Bellatrix said. "Really. I'll do anything."

"Oh good." Gam-'s went quite suddenly from bright to rather sinister. "Yes, there is a punishment, a task… well, there are a few of them, and they go rather hand-in-hand…"

"Good," said Bellatrix vehemently. "I'll do a few tasks. I'll do a thousand tasks. Just tell me so I can get started. The faster I get started, the faster I can finish."

"That's what you think."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Excellent." Gam- was sounding downright evil now. "Well, first off, you're going to have to cook for this Charlie Swan. No magic, no house elves, just a good muggle cook book. And you're responsible for each and every one of his meals. Starting with breakfast tomorrow."

"Done," Bellatrix said. _This doesn't sound so very bad… it'll be irritating, but cooking to get out of here seems more than reasonable._

"Second," continued Gam-, "you will have to go to muggle high school."

"All right." _Muggle school can't be hard. I'll be able to make it through._

"You're not allowed to kill anyone."

"Fine." _I would have hardly expected to be allowed to kill. Although_, Bellatrix thought rather bitterly of Charlie asking her if she was "into" Harry Potter, _it shall test my patience._

"And one last thing…"

"What?"

"Edward Cullen." There was a booming, villainous laugh following those two words and lightning crackled outside.

"There can't be lightning. This isn't a thunderstorm," Bellatrix said, looking at the window. "Is no one in charge of quality control here?"

"No," said Gam-.

"All right, this… 'Edward Cullen'. I've never heard of him. What about him?"

The villainous laugh returned full-force, echoing through the bedroom. Bellatrix winced, and massaged her temples. "Could you keep it down?"

"Oh, you'll see," Gam- said, and the villainous laugh faded into the distance, leaving Bellatrix feeling distinctly unsettled.


	9. Bloody Hell, This Chapter is Long

Bellatrix got up early the next morning, all ready to set to work on the tasks Gam- had described. It was wretched, of course, that she had to do them at all, but Bellatrix would have done very nearly anything to get out of Forks, Washington. Cooking, at least, would be easy enough.

Bellatrix thought differently when she was confronted with Charlie's kitchen.

She had spent the night pondering it, and decided that the best thing to do would be to make food that was simple enough that she wouldn't ruin it, and also complicated enough that Gam- would see that she really was willing to put effort into her tasks. After much deliberation, Bellatrix had settled on porridge and fried eggs, both of which she happened to know muggles ate, and both of which she felt relatively confident she could manage to prepare.

But when she went down to the kitchen, before the sky had even lightened, she realized that she needed magic to cook either of those.

Presumably, there were ways to make food without magic – muggles clearly did it – but Bellatrix had never thought there was any reason for her to learn how. _Dammit!_

Bellatrix glared around the kitchen, searching for some sort of familiar item that could give her a clue as to how to get started. There was no fireplace (_Where do muggles cook?_), a large white box against one wall that was emitting a soft buzzing noise (_Surely it can't be meant to do that_), and a tap dripping water slowly into a large, metal sink.

None of these seemed the least bit helpful in cooking.

A search of kitchen cupboards revealed that Charlie did indeed have oatmeal, but Bellatrix wasn't sure how to go about preparing it without a wand. There was bread, and a jar of peanut butter buried at the back, both of which Bellatrix pulled out and set on the table. If all else failed, she could at least smear the peanut butter on the bread and call it breakfast.

Charlie's heavy footfalls on the steps startled Bellatrix, and she quickly pulled a plate from the cupboard where she had noticed them, threw two pieces of bread down on it, and slapped some peanut butter on them. She had it on the kitchen table by the time Charlie entered.

"I made you breakfast," Bellatrix said, rather sulkily. This was not an auspicious start to her task-completing.

Charlie blinked sleepily at her, then looked with some confusion at the bread and peanut butter. "What?"

"Breakfast," Bellatrix repeated. "I made it. Eat."

He took a bite of the bread, and chewed on it, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Bellatrix watched as Charlie slowly worked away at it. When about half the piece of bread was gone, Charlie suddenly stopped. He looked far more awake, and turned to Bellatrix with a look of horror on his face.

"Bella, honey," he said, "did you put peanut butter on the bread?"

"Yes," Bellatrix said, deciding this was not the time to take issue with being called "Bella, honey". _Only the Dark Lord should call me that…_

Charlie coughed several times. He spat a mouthful of spitty bread onto the plate, then stood up, staggering out of the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Bellatrix asked, following him curiously.

"Calling the hospital," Charlie managed to hack out. "Allergic to- peanut butter."

Bellatrix swore.


	10. First Sight, Part Seven

"If he's allergic to peanut butter, why in the name of Merlin does he have it in his house?" Bellatrix demanded of Gam- as soon as the waiting room of the hospital was empty.

"Because it's fucking Twilight," was Gam-'s rather irritable reply.

"That's no excuse–"

"Stephenie Meyer's getting paid for writing stuff of this quality. I'm not going to strive for logic and continuity when I'm not getting a cent. Now do shut up and stop questioning the logic of Twilight, _Bella_."

"You might have _told_ me!"

Gam- did not respond, and after several minutes, Bellatrix was forced to admit that she was not going to get any response to that. She was left, sitting in the waiting room, in an incredibly bad temper. Gam- hadn't even assigned the tasks a whole day ago, and already Bellatrix had managed to muck up three out of four. She has almost killed Charlie, which would have violated the "No killing" clause, she wasn't sure whether Gam- would count this disaster as breakfast, and she was missing the day of muggle school. _And_ she still didn't have the first clue who or what "Edward Cullen" was or why he had prompted Gam- to laugh so very evilly and sacrifice continuity for the sake of a thunderclap.

The temper was made far worse when a doctor decided to sit down next to her.

"You must be Bella Swan," he said, smiling widely with teeth so blindingly white that Bellatrix blinked. He reminded her rather a lot of Gilderoy Lockhart – same perfectly curled blonde hair, same shockingly white teeth, same obvious self-confidence, and same air of needing to be smacked upside the head.

"So I've been told," Bellatrix muttered, looking away from his teeth. She resisted the urge to tell him no, Goddamnit, I'm Bellatrix Lestrange. Somehow, she didn't think that would make her day any better.

"Well, you're a very brave girl, Bella Swan," he said, patting her condescendingly on the shoulder. Bellatrix hit him, but she was so weak that the effect was more of a light pat on the cheek (she made a mental note to take up some form of exercise in the very near future).

This doctor wore a nametag that read "Hello, my name is Carlisle", and he was handsomer than any of the other doctors.

"_I'm not sure that's the best choice of words," Stephenie Meyer's editor told her._

"_God will hate you if you make me change it," Stephenie Meyer said._

He was handsomer than any of the other doctors.

"I'm told this is your first day in Forks," the handsomer doctor said. "Arrived with a bang, didn't you?"

"I generally do," Bellatrix said shortly.

"So," continued Carlisle, apparently not caring in the slightest that Bellatrix had said anything to him, "I've taken the liberty of doing a very invasive background check on you, and I hear that you're schizophrenic. You hear voices in your head, isn't that right, Bella?"

"Of course I don't–"

"What am _I_?" Gam- asked loudly. Bellatrix changed courses immediately.

"-Don't need any sort of medication," she said. "I'm handling things just fine. You shut up!" Gam- had snorted loudly.

"I should shut up?" Carlisle asked, confused.

"No, I…" Bellatrix sighed, and gave up.

"Well," said Carlisle, "If you ever need to restock on medication, or if you need to talk to someone, then I'm always around. My adopted son Edward is in your biology class, and he'll always be happy to get inside your head."

With that, Carlisle stood up abruptly, and walked out.

"What was _that_?" Bellatrix screeched, staring incredulously after him.

"Thinly veiled foreshadowing," Gam- told her.


	11. Interlude: The Malfoys'

Narcissa Malfoy almost fainted when she saw them carry the bodies of the various Death Eaters who had been saved from Azkaban in.

"Merlin help us," she whimpered, clutching at her husband to stay upright. "Do you have my sister? Is she alive? Please tell me that my sister is alive!"

Voldemort shook his head. "Bellatrix is not dead. However, she does appear to be gravely ill and mentally unstable."

Narcissa let out a wail that caused all the other Death Eaters in the room to clap their hands over their ears. "My sister!"

"I say, Cissa, do quiet down," said Lucius, who had been standing right next to Narcissa and thus had his ear screamed right into. "She's been in Azkaban for fourteen years. Of course she's going to be gravely ill and mentally unstable. But I'm sure she'll be fine." He knelt at the side of the bed that Bellatrix's body had been deposited on, and shook her gently.

Bellatrix opened her eyes, and stared dully at Lucius. Her mouth hung slack, and her eyes were unfocussed. The entire effect was a little unnerving, Lucius had to admit, but he refused to show any signs of fear for his wife's sake.

"Do you recognize me?" he asked.

Bellatrix shook her head, jaw still slack and eyes still unfocussed. Lucius frowned, ego bruised. "Do you remember your name?"

"Bella," Bellatrix said flatly, and Narcissa let out a short cry of relief.

"Good," said Lucius, looking around at the assembled others. "See, she's not completely gone. What's your favourite thing to do, Bella?"

There was a silence, then Bellatrix said, still in that disturbingly flat monotone, "I like… forming r=relationships with much older men…"

Lucius glanced at the Dark Lord and then around at the others. "See? There's still some of the old Bellatrix here."

But Bella wasn't finished.

"M-much older men who s-s-sparkle in the sunlight," she finished.

Lucius frowned. "Pardon?"

"She likes older men who sparkle?" asked a Death Eater who was hanging back in a corner to watch the proceedings. "Did I hear that right? I mean, we all knew she liked older men…"

"But I'm not older than her!" protested Rodolphus weakly from the couch where he had been deposited. No one listened to him.

"But who sparkle in the sunlight?" finished the Death Eater. "Pardon me for asking, my Lord but do _you_ spa– ouch!"

The Death Eater standing next to him had kicked him in the shins.

Lucius cleared his throat. "Well, if it seems like that's her biggest problem, things could be much worse, to be honest. I mean, she's been in Azkaban. Things could be a lot worse than this. Bellatrix liking sparkles isn't really _that_ bad of a side effect of fourteen years of psychological torture, is it?"

"Lucius," said Voldemort icily, "listen to what you are saying."

"Bellatrix liking sparkles…" Lucius began again, then trailed off. "Oh yes, I see your point. That does seem quite serious after all."

Narcissa let out another wail, and everyone clapped their hands over their ears again.


	12. First Sight, Part Eight

Author's Note: Wow, over 100 reviews? I love you guys, they're so much more enjoyable to read than Twilight, and they make this story worth doing. (Let's see if we can get up to 500...)

)O(

Bellatrix would not have known that Forks High School was a school if it were not for the very large sign that proclaimed FORKS HIGH SCHOOL. She got out of Charlie's car – he had very wisely offered to drive her instead of letting her drive the truck – and was immediately accosted by a group of people.

"Hi," said a short, curly-haired girl, sticking out her hand. "We're the Forks High School welcome committee, and we're here to make your transition from one school to another as surreal as possible. I'm Jessica, and I'll be your generic bratty source of gossip. Pleased to meet you!"

"I'm Lauren," said a tall, skinny blonde. "I'll be your token blonde, backstabbing, bitch. Pleased to meet you!"

"I'm Angela," said an anorexia-thin girl with glasses. "I'll be your only real friend, because I'll put up with you, no matter how crazy you act."

"I'm Mike," said one boy. "I'll be one of the many boys who will be falling head over heels in love with you by the end of this chapter."

Bellatrix stared in horror at the group. She despised having so many people nearby, especially when they seemed to want to help her.

"Right," she said firmly. "Go away. I'm not going to be here long, and if you don't leave right now, I'll have to violate the no-killing clause of my stay here. Now leave!"

"No killing clause?" Jessica asked, tilting her head and blinking somewhat stupidly. "Is that a joke?"

"No," Bellatrix told her, a dark grin breaking across her face. "I'm dead serious. I've killed probably about a hundred people, though I really prefer to torture them into insanity. Now, who wants to tell me where I can get my timetable?"

There was a silence, then Angela cleared her throat, and said, "I'll take you to the office to get it… because I'll put up with you, no matter how crazy you act…" She started off towards the school building, muttering hysterically under her breath, and Bellatrix followed, glaring at Jessica, Lauren and Mike.

"_What_," she hissed under her breath to Gam-, "is _this_? Who are _these people_?"

"You weren't supposed to tell them about being a murderess."

"You didn't say that. Now answer my question. Who… are… they?"

"They're exactly who they say they are," Gam- told her. "Stock characters who would be much more interesting than any of the Cullens if Stephenie Meyer had bothered to flesh them out."

"I hate them."

"So does everyone else."

"I hate you."

"That's not nice."

"I want to kill someone."

"Not if you want to get back to being Bellatrix."

"H- Here, Bella," Angela said, coming out of a room marked with a giant sign that read "school office" and holding out a piece of paper. "Here's your timetable."

Bellatrix took it and shot Angela a nasty look. Angela yelped and ran away to hide.

"Why is there only one class on my timetable… 'biology'?" Bellatrix asked Gam- glaring at the paper.

"Because it's the only one with a sparkly venomous wood nymph in it," Gam- said.

"What the Hell does that mean?" Bellatrix snapped.

"Oh, you'll see. You'll see…"

"Have I mentioned I hate you?"


	13. First Sight, Last Part

"Oy, you." Bellatrix pointed at a child hurrying down the hallway. He stopped, turned, and immediately went gooey-eyed, staring at Bellatrix in amazement and adoration.

"I'm Eric," he said. "Please marry me."

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "How do I get to biology class?"

"That way," he said dreamily, pointing to a doorway without taking his eyes off Bellatrix for a second. She let out an impatient breath and stormed past him without saying thank you.

The room he had indicated had several long benches in it, all packed full except for one, which had only one student sitting at it. Bellatrix stepped inside, directly in front of the fan that was positioned for no apparent reason by the door. The student sitting on his own at the desk inhaled deeply, and his eyes bugged out.

"You must be Bella Swan," said the professor, who was sitting at his desk smoking a cigarette and looking like he needed coffee. "Go sit down next to that alienated youth over there. He pointed at the sitting-alone student with his cigarette, which he proceeded to stub out on a stack of homework papers.

"Well," Bellatrix hissed at Gam- out of the corner of her mouth as she moved over towards the sitting-alone boy, "I can tell this is going to be a deeply enriching educational experience."

"You're going to be completely miserable," Gam- said cheerfully.

Bellatrix sat down next to sitting-alone boy. She looked at him critically. "You look very familiar. Didn't the Dark Lord already kill you?"

No-longer-sitting-alone boy leaned over and inhaled deeply, smelling her neck.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bellatrix yelped, jumping away from him. He did not respond. Bellatrix grabbed his ballpoint pen off the desk and pointed it threateningly at him.

He still did not respond.

She stabbed him in the throat.

He looked down at the pen, which had broken against his skin. Bellatrix stared at it too.

"_Gam-_," she hissed through gritted teeth. _"What… the… hell_…"

"I'm Edward Cullen," he said in an abominably bad approximation of a monotone American accent, lifting his head and turning slightly to show off his hair.

"This," Gam- said, "is Edward Cullen. And you have to carry on a romance with him."

"A… romance?" Bellatrix asked Gam- in a whisper.

"Yes."

"As in… flowers, dates, dances… romance?"

"Exactly."

Bellatrix looked at Edward Cullen in abject horror. He stared back at her with no expression whatsoever.

"You smell," he said at last, still in his in faux American accent, "like freesias."

Bellatrix stared at him while he sniffed her. Then, very slowly, she stood up, turned, left the room, walked out into the parking lot, and burst into hysterical tears.


	14. Open Book, Part One

The next day was better… and worse.

It was worse because Bellatrix had spent the night unable to sleep for sheer horror at the idea of ever carrying on a relationship with someone who told her she smelled like freesias (she detested freesias), and was thus extremely tired when she dragged herself out of bed in the morning to make Charlie breakfast as per Gam-'s orders.

This time, she stayed far away from the peanut butter, and simply buttered the bread instead.

After that, the day improved steadily.

"Gam-," Bellatrix said, tapping the butter knife against the edge of the plate, "do I have to go into school every day?"

"You have to go in as often as the average Forks High School student does."

"I see… and how many classes per week would you say a Forks High School Student skives off of?"

There was a long pause, then Gam-'s grudging answer. "About one day per week."

"Perfect," Bellatrix said, smiling darkly. "I don't think I'm going in to school today, then. Oy, you!" Charlie had just come into the kitchen. "I need some money."

Charlie yawned. "My wallet's on the coffee table. Help yourself."

Bellatrix immediately turned and went into the front room. She picked up his wallet and started rifling through it.

"Shouldn't he be a little worried that I'm going to steal from him?" Bellatrix asked Gam- as she sorted through the unrecognizable bits of paper for money.

"Charlie is about as aware as a bag of hammers," Gam- said. "He won't notice if you steal from him. He wouldn't even notice if you ran off to Italy to save Edward Cullen from being exacuted for committing an act of indecent exposure."

"What was that?"

"The sequel."

"Why isn't there any money in here?" Bellatrix burst out, emptying the entire contents of the wallet onto the floor. Not only were there no galleons, sickles or knuts, there were none of the vaguely familiar muggle money notes she had seen in the past.

"It's American money, obviously," Gam- said. "They're the little scraps of paper with old men's faces on them."

"I did wonder why he had so many portraits," Bellatrix commented, picking up one of the papers and squinting at it. "Why does their money have old men on it? And what's wrong with it, why isn't it moving?" She shook the dollar bill hard as though by shaking it, she would convince it to behave properly.

"It doesn't move because muggle pictures don't move," Gam- reminded her. "As to why they have old men, don't ask me. Where I come from, there are hockey players and beavers on our money. That's the proper way."

"Well," Bellatrix said, gathering up the money and shoving it sleeves for safekeeping, "just as long as this is enough to do a good bit of shopping with."

"You're going shopping?" Gam- scoffed. "You're skiving off school to go _shopping_?"

"Well, obviously." Bellatrix stuck her feet into a pair of Wellington boots.

"I think you should know that I disapprove."

"Will it stop me from getting back into my own body?"

"Well… no," Gam- admitted reluctantly.

"Then I'm going shopping. You see," Bellatrix said as she yanked open the door and stepped out into the pouring rain, "I can't very well go around looking like _this_, can I?"

"But–"

"Don't say a word. I might have to live in a muggle's body, but I'm not going to look it."

"You'll scare off Edward Cullen if you look anything more than incredibly ordinary!"

"Good!" Bellatrix slammed the door behind her. "Maybe then he won't tell me I smell like bloody fucking FREESIAS!"


	15. Open Book, Part Two

"So," Bellatrix said, making her way down the street, "where can I buy wizard robes in Forks?"

"You can't," Gam- said sourly, still very peeved that Bellatrix was skipping school to go shopping. "It's a muggle town. They don't sell wizard robes."

"Well, where can I buy a corset, then?"

"You can't. This is also an American town. They don't sell corsets."

"Boots?"

"Only the sort you're wearing."

"Damn! Muggles have no fashion sense. What would Narcissa say if she ever saw this?"

"I honestly have no idea. That's a whole other story which I'm not going to be writing anytime soon."

"Hey!" Bellatrix stopped and peered into a shop window. "You were wrong, I see wizard robes in there! And corsets!"

Gam- let out an impatient sigh. "That's a costume shop, Bellatrix. Muggles buy clothes there for Halloween, not for every day wear." But Bellatrix wasn't listening. She slammed inside, stamping the water off her boots. A boy at the counter looked up at her, and his face immediately took on the same gooey expression that every other boy in Forks had adopted when they looked at Bellatrix. "Hi… if I give you the most gorgeous costume ever, will you marry me?"

"No," Bellatrix said. She pointed at a dress hanging on the wall. "I want that."

"Ask if he has it in your size," Gam- prompted.

"Do you have it in my size?" Bellatrix asked.

"What size would that be?" asked the boy, squinting at her. "5 foot 9… 36, 18, 33?"

"Just tell him 'anorexic Sue size'," Gam- told Bellatrix.

"Anorexic Sue size," Bellatrix repeated, wondering what the hell that meant.

"Ah, you must be Bella Swan," the boy said, pulling down a dress and holding it out to Bellatrix.

"So everyone keeps telling me."

"I didn't know you were into Harry Potter."

"Why do people keep saying that?" Bellatrix asked, infuriated. "I'm not 'into' Harry Potter!"

"But if you're not into Harry Potter, then why are you trying on the costume that Helena Bonham Carter wore in Harry Potter and the Or-"

"Shut that bloody mouth of yours or I swear I'll do it for you!"

The boy's mouth closed immediately. "You can try it on in there," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, pointing at a changing room off in the corner.

Bellatrix snatched it away without saying thank you and marched into the changing room. "Stay outside," she told Gam-.

"That doesn't make sense. I'm in your head. I can't stay outside."

"I do have some sense of modesty, you know! Then just quietly hum and shut your eyes while I try the dress on."

"Fine," Gam- said peevishly.

_This story has been temporarily interrupted while the author quietly hums with her eyes shut._

"Right," Bellatrix said at last, tighteneing the laces on the corset and admiring herself in the mirror. "Not bad… this is quite my style, really." She turned around, admiring herself.

"Yes, it is," agreed Gam-, though her voice was rather sour.

"In fact, this is shockingly similar to a dress I own…" Bellatrix mused, but then shrugged. "Well, no complaints." She unlocked the door and stepped out. "Right. I'm buying this. I'm wearing it out of the store. Here." She threw a handful of Charlie's American money at the boy at the cash register. "Take it. Keep the change, or whatever you muggles say."

"Muggles? So you ARE into Harry Potter!"

"_Stop saying that!_" Bellatrix was about ready to throw something at him as she stamped towards the door.

"WAIT! I'm going to DH part two this weekend! I'm going to dress up as Ron! Will you come with me?" he asked desperately.

"Whatever that means," Bellatrix muttered, not responding and slamming out.


	16. Interlude: Very Wrong

The Dark Lord soon grew impatient with Bellatrix. The others who had been in Azkaban were recovering quite well, but she remained…

Well.

He wasn't quite sure how to describe what was wrong with her. The only thing he could think was that the Dementors must have caused very serious damage. Bellatrix did nothing but lie in bed, day in and day out, staring at the ceiling with a slack-jawed expression. Narcissa, for her part, was making the effort to continue to speak to her sister on a regular basis, but the rest of the Death Eaters had more or less given up.

Bellatrix rarely spoke, and when she did, it was rarely anything but a monotone complaint.

"You're ugly," she told Lucius Malfoy, to his great dismay. "You're older than seventeen and your hair is blonde and all people with blonde hair are disgusting."

"_What_?" Lucius protested.

"It's true," said Bellatrix. "Blonde hair is disgusting because I have brown hair so brown hair is good because I am perfect."

Lucius Malfoy stormed out, declaring that she was beyond help. "Anyone who thinks that _I_ am unattractive is too far gone to be helped! You might as well put her down like a dog!"

Upon hearing that, Narcissa had fainted dead away and had to be sent to her chamber for weeks to recuperate.

"Talk to her, Rodolphus," the Dark Lord ordered. "If she'll listen to anyone, she'll listen to you."

This, of course, was the most blatant and absurd lie he had told since he had told Horace Slughorn that he was "Only curious" about Horcruxes. If anything, Bellatrix – the Bellatrix he remembered, at least – would stick her fingers in her ears and hum loudly when Rodolphus started talking. But the Dark Lord didn't much fancy speaking to her himself and being told that there was something wrong with him.

Rodolphus looked proud. He limped over to Bellatrix's bed, and leaned down. "Bella, it's me… your husband. Do you remember me?" He bent over her and kissed her tenderly.

"Jacob!" Bellatrix hit him in the face. She immediately howled in pain and grabbed her hand, bursting into tears. "My hand!"

Voldemort breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know who "Jacob" was, or what about Rodolphus had prompted her to hit him, or how she had managed to hurt her hand, but he didn't care.

If she was hitting Rodolphus, surely this was still Bellatrix. At least, that was what he told himself. Of course, he was fully aware that he was missing _something._ This was _not_ the Bellatrix he remembered. This was not the Bellatrix he remembered, but twisted by Azkaban.

If it were really Bellatrix, she would have hit Rodolphus a long time ago.

Something was very wrong indeed.


	17. Open Book, Part Three

Author's Notes: Apologies for the lack of updates - I was busy with NaNoWriMo (and ten billion other things). I'm back, though! Hopefully updates shall be more regular from here on in.

)O(

"You were very impolite to that boy in the costume shop who suggested you and he attend DH part two together," Gam- told Bellatrix as she stamped through the deserted streets.

"Firstly, why are you saying all that? I just came from there, I know what happened!"

"I'm simply reminding the readers."

"_Pardon_?"

"Nothing," Gam- said, all innocence.

"Secondly," Bellatrix continued, deciding to ignore the comment about reminding the readers – whatever Gam- meant, it couldn't make her situation any worse if she ignored it, "What in the name of Merlin's–" she swore vehemently, "is 'DH part two'?"

"DH stands for Deathly Hallows."

"The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak, you mean?" Bellatrix felt a wave of relief. "So there are wizards here! So that boy was a wizard! He must be to have known about them, isn't that right?"

There was a long, somewhat awkward pause.

"You were very rude to him."

"You never told me I had to be nice to people," Bellatrix grumbled, resenting the change of subject, but well aware that if Gam- didn't want to explain to her why an American Muggle working in a costume shop knew about the Deathly Hallows, she was not going to be finding out any time soon.

"But it's good form."

"Do I look like I care?"

"Well… no. No, I suppose not. But still…"

"Stop telling me off, or I'll get those drugs from Edward Cullen and get rid of you for good!"

"If you do that, you'll be stuck here forever."

Bellatrix snarled under her breath, hoisting up her skirt and stepping over a puddle. "As soon as I am out of this body, I am going to hunt you down and make what I did to the Longbottoms look like a light slap to the cheek."

"Don't make threats you can't fulfil. You don't know who I am or where to find me or even if I'm real. You will most certainly not be able to torture me. Oh, look, here "

Bellatrix dropped her skirt and clutched at her hair in sheer frustration. "What is it you want from me? Is it money? Safety from the Dark Lord? For the love of God, tell me what it is you want, and you'll have it! But _get me out of here!_"

"I don't think you quite grasp the situation," Gam- said calmly. "What I want from you is entertainment, and I'm getting it quite well."

"I'll have the Dark Lord find you!"

"Enough empty threats. Are you planning on going back to school in that… dress… or are you simply going to stand here for the rest of the day, talking to no one?"

Bellatrix did not answer. She simply started walking again, in the general direction of the school, hoping that before she got there, something would happen to improve her day.

"You ought to hurry up," Gam- said lightly. "You'll want to get into the school soon…"

"Why?" asked Bellatrix, tensing suspiciously.

"Look up."

Bellatrix looked up.

A large gob of meteorologically impossible snow fell into her eye.

"Wow," Gam- said, in a spot-on imitation of Mike from school. "It's snowing."

"Perfect," muttered Bellatrix.


	18. Open Book, Part Four

Bellatrix spent the day trudging in circles around the town, occasionally ducking into the forest in hopes of avoiding Jessica, Mike, Lauren, Angela, and the squad of other fawning teenagers.

_This must be what that Gilderoy Lockhart person feels like_, she thought, when she was forced to jump into a patch of geographically inaccurate briar for the sixth time in an hour to hide from yet another boy with a "will you marry me" look plastered all over his face rushed towards her. _Except he gets paid for it._

Finally, Bellatrix could stand it no longer. She crept back to Charlie's house and started looking for something to kill herself with. Or, alternatively, to kill everyone else in the entire world.

"Hey, Bell, you're home early."

Bellatrix had been rifling through a drawer of cooking utensils, looking for a knife that was sharp enough to slit her throat with, and she jumped when she heard Charlie's voice.

"It's not bad enough you have to call me Bella, now you're calling me BELL too?" she demanded, whirling to face him.

"Manners," mocked Gam-

"Oh, right…" Charlie nodded. "Isa. You're home early, Isa."

"Yeah," she muttered. Killing everyone else in the entire world was looking more and more tempting. She could start with Charlie. "Making dinner, you know."

"Smells good, Isa."

"I haven't started it yet."

"Oh. Then I think someone's having a barbeque – I could swear I smell raw meat. It's probably the Cullens. They eat lots of red meat. Good for the blood, you know."

Bellatrix was planning on ignoring him, but then an idea struck her. "You know the Cullen family?"

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man. Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here. We're lucky to have him — lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts, when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them. But they're all very mature — I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for the children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should – camping trips every other weekend... Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk."

"I asked nothing pertaining to any of that. I want to know if Dr. Cullen can prescribe me some… pills."

"Oh. Is your schizophrenia acting up again? Hearing those voices telling you not to jump off cliffs or walk towards people you recognize as attempted rapists?"

"Something like that."

"Oh. Well, we'd better get you those pills quickly, then. It's very bad to have those voices in your head, you know."

"Yes," Bellatrix muttered, looking up and to the left where she imagined Gam- was.

"You know, their son is in your biology class. Why don't you ask him?"

"Good idea," Bellatrix said, painting a large faux smile onto her mouth. "And just out of curiosity, how many muggle- I mean, anti-schizophrenia pills would I have to take to kill myself?"

"Probably ten or twelve."

"Good to know. How many would it take to kill someone else?"

"Hmm… probably ten or twelve."

"Excellent," Bellatrix said, waiting until Charlie turned away to grin demonically.


	19. Open Book, Part Five

Author's Notes: Apologies for the wait, et cetera.

)O(

"Right," Bellatrix said, striding into the biology classroom, snatching a scalpel from a flower pot on the professor's desk and pointing it at Edward Cullen. "I want pills."

Edward Cullen looked at it, then raised his eyes and gazed intensely at her, one eye twitching very slightly. He turned away quickly, running his hand through his coiffed hair. "You are my heroine," he said. Or, at least, Bellatrix thought that was what he said – it might have been "You are my heroin."

"Save the dramatic speeches, boy," hissed Bellatrix. She had little patience for him left. "Your father said that you could give me pills. I want them. _Now_."

Edward turned back to Bellatrix with a mournful expression. "What did my father say about me?"

"That you could give me pills for… _schizophrenia_." Bellatrix's lip curled involuntarily at the word. "And… Charlie Swan says that ten or twelve would kill someone, so I'll be needing…" She paused, counting on her fingers. "At least thirty. Better make it forty two to be safe. And a few extra to get rid of…"

"Don't you dare!" Gam– said.

With as much drama as he could manage, Edward Cullen reached into his pocket, and retrieved, with a flourish, a large white bottle. "Here. Take them all. I do not need them. I have you now."

Bellatrix opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but decided against it. She grabbed the bottle from his hands and opened it.

It was full of white powder.

"It's heroin," Edward said.

"_Heroin?_" demanded Bellatrix, eyes narrowing.

"Good God, that's the last thing you need," Gam– commented.

"But," Edward continued, seeming to struggle to register a fully-formed realistic emotion, "I do not need the heroin. You are my own personal brand of heroin."

"Oh, so that's what you were saying… Well," Bellatrix said, "I don't want heroin. I want schizophrenia medicine. The heroin would do perfectly well for killing people, but injecting it is too much trouble, and I still need to get rid of this irritating voice in my head."

"Watch it," Gam– said.

"Oh, no, but that's the good thing." For the first time, Edward looked mildly animated. "If you overdose on the heroin, when you crash, the voices go away. Watch." He grabbed a handful of the powder, produced a syringe from his pocket, tapped the powder in, rolled up his sleeve, and stuck it into his arm.

The tip of the syringe snapped against his flesh.

Edward looked at it mournfully, and twitched. "Darn…"

"Well," Bellatrix said, mildly unnerved, "This is… I'll just be going now."

"Be in class tomorrow for our unnecessary and unsanitary blood lab," the biology teacher said, lighting up another cigarette.

Bellatrix ignored him, pocketing the scalpel she had threatened Edward with and striding towards the door.

"You want me to carry on a romance with a heroin addict?" she asked Gam– once she had left the biology classroom. "Have you no consideration for my safety?"

"Pardon me," Gam– said snippily, "but I hardly think you can be choosy about men, given the type you're so prone to finding yourself attracted to. Heroin addict is not as dangerous as sociopathic mass murderer, is it?"

"That," Bellatrix said, forcing her voice to remain calm, "was an unnecessary, uncalled for, _inaccurate _comparison."

"We shall revisit this theory at some later date," Gam– said evasively.

"I'm going back to Charlie's house."

"Suit yourself."

Bellatrix stamped down the stairs, out into the parking lot. There was ice on the ground.

"Gam…" Bellatrix said slowly, looking thoughtfully at a truck driving backwards through the parking lot, "what would happen if I were to die here?"

"Oh, I don't know. You'd die, I suppose."

"So I wouldn't be Bella Swan anymore?"

"No…"

"Are those… trucks… enough to kill me?"

"Well, I should think so… wait."

Bellatrix was grinning manically. She eyed the truck, then took off, sprinting across the ice towards it, while Gam– shrieked.

"Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no–"

Bellatrix ignored her. The truck was not slowing down, and Bellatrix skidded to a stop directly behind it, struggling to stay upright on the slick ice. She threw her arms out, welcoming the crash that would end this misery of a half-life she was living. Her head tipped back, her eyes closing in anticipation.

Bellatrix Lestrange had given a great deal of thought to how she would die–

The impact came sooner than she had expected, and from the wrong side. Her eyes sprung open and her mouth fell open as she felt herself hurtling through the air, out of the path of the truck.

"Ouch!"

Her head banged a nearby truck's tire and the wind was knocked out of her when she landed, but she was still completely alive. And Edward Cullen was crouching on top of her, breathing heavily.

"You…" she said dazedly, rubbing her head as stars swam before her eyes.

"Bella," he said dramatically. Then he leapt off of her and went running in the opposite direction.

Bellatrix stared after him, even as the prat who had been driving the van leapt out and immediately slipped on the ice.

"That heroin…" she said to Gam– at last, when she was fairly sure she could form a sentence. Her lips felt numb and thick. "That heroin he's taking… it must be some strong stuff…"

"You have no idea," Gam– said.


	20. Open Book, Part Six

Author's Notes: Hi everyone… this is Gamma issuing another apology for taking so long on the chapter. But if you don't hate me _too_ much for the constant delays on this story, then you should know that I've been nominated for Best Slytherin Author, and if you want to vote for me, you should go to www**DOT**fanfiction**DOT**net/u/2270025/Couture-Girl and fill out the poll :) I'd be ever grateful!

)O(

The boy who had driven the van that had almost run into Bellatrix scrambled over the ice in an attempt to reach her. She just groaned and lay back against the tire of the car that Edward had pushed her against. There was no more energy in her for talking to the boy. There was no more energy in her for anything. She couldn't recall ever before in her life feeling so exhausted, confused, or filled with burning and soul-consuming hatred.

"Stay here!" he told her.

"I'm not going anywhere," she muttered, not quite loudly enough for him to hear.

"I'll get help!" He struggled towards the school, then stopped, turned back towards her pulled a notebook from his pocket and scribbled down a string of numbers. He threw it at her. Bellatrix didn't even have the energy to catch it, and it skittered along the ice beside her.

"What is that?" she asked tiredly.

"Well, I know I just met you… and I almost killed you… but it's my number." He grinned hopefully at her. "Call me, maybe?"

"You nearly killed me – you want romance now?"

"Yes."

"That's rather sexy, actually," she mumbled.

He didn't even seem to hear her, but continued to make his way towards the school, picking across the ice. Bellatrix sighed and closed her eyes. She didn't expect to get any sort of proper help from the school, of course. She just hoped that she would die before the Muggle doctors that they would surely send her to started cutting her up or putting leeches on her or whatever it was that doctors did these days. Maybe she would be able to die quite quietly and pleasantly, here in the parking lot, and never have anything to do with Gam- or Edward Cullen ever again.

Yes, she would rather like that, really. Dying like this wouldn't be bad at all…

But before she could even start to consider how best to lie down so that she would look decently dignified when she was dead, a dozen people came rushing out to see her, all with looks of profound concern mixed with soul-consuming lust upon their faces.

"Please go away," she told them, as they crowded around her, but no one was listening to what she was saying. Then she heard someone loudly proclaiming, "I'm a doctor! Let me through!"

"Oh God, you?" Bellatrix asked, disgusted, when the handsomer doctor Carlisle from the hospital stroke through the crowd. He moved so gracefully that it was almost a dance, albeit a very boring one that looked a lot like walking.

"She needs to go to the hospital," he proclaimed to the group of people standing around. "Even though she's very obviously all right, she needs to come to the hospital so that she can feel helpless." He looked down at Bellatrix. "You want to feel helpless, don't you?"

_If I wasn't already helpless, you would be dead right now._

"Mmm," was her only response. She would have leapt up and strangled him with her bare hands if she thought that she could have managed it, but she didn't think that she could, so she didn't bother.

He lifted her up easily in her arms.

She tried to slap at him, but he didn't even flinch, and it hurt her palms. It was like hitting a stone statue.

"Please, Miss Swan," he said cordially as he carried her out of the parking lot, "Don't hit me. It won't do you any good, and it's not particularly enjoyable for either of us."

"Put me down, and I'll stop hitting you!"

"Don't be silly," he said, laughing quietly, and then, without even the slightest change in tone, "and don't even think about filing a harassment lawsuit because if you try to sue me, I will drink your blood."

Bellatrix stared at him in horror.

"That had _damned well_ better be an exaggeration."

Carlisle laughed maniacally, then put her into the back of a helpfully present ambulance and shut the doors. Bellatrix shivered violently and stared after him as the ambulance careened towards the hospital, sirens blaring.

"Muggles are _dangerous_," she said out loud, and she hoped that Gam- was listening.


End file.
